


A Father's Love

by Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Family, Fight me on this DC, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Mayarene%20Rose
Summary: Jason has a habit of stealing the Batmobile's tires. It'stradition.





	A Father's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Meaningless fluff I wrote in about two hours. Set firmly in the pre-52 because I'm salty and I cope by being passive aggressive. 
> 
> Fight me DC.

The first time Bruce catches Jason at it, he laughs louder and longer than he has in a long time. It’s the day his parents died in that dark, broken alleyway years ago, and his heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.

It’s been too long since he’s seen a kid with too much guts and smarts. He’s forgotten how good it felt when they succeeded.

Even if the kid was stealing the tires of his car.

 

\--

 

They’re in the Batcave. Bruce in his Batman uniform, Jason in his Robin, despite Bruce’s orders that Jason isn’t to even go near his universe for another two weeks, at least.

The two of them are standing, staring at each other. Bruce, unsure if he should be disapproving or bursting out in laughter, and Jason, scowling up at him with a tire iron in his hand that he’s not even bothering to hide. They are standing in front of the Batmobile.

They are standing in front of a  _ tireless  _ Batmobile.

Bruce is really resisting the urge to burst out laughing because he is Jason’s parental figure and he is trying to be a good one. Still, his lips are twitching. Jason has undoubtedly noticed and will definitely use it against him. He’s very resourceful that way.

It’s a little under a year since he found and adopted Jason. Still, the situation is frighteningly familiar, right down to the way Jason is glaring at him.

Bruce has no idea how he keeps finding himself in staring matches with children. Logically speaking, it should not be happening. Logically speaking, children should not even be interacting with him. He is completely incapable in this regard. He is, quite possibly, the worst person he knows to handle children. 

(Apart from Oliver Queen that is, but that’s just  another conversation entirely.)

Bruce raises an eyebrow. Jason does not break eye contact, fearless and completely unashamed as he always is.

“I’m not sorry,” Jason says.

“I noticed.”

Jason’s eyes narrow further. Bruce sighs. He’s almost forgotten what it felt like living with children. Particularly children with exceptional persistence and tenacity to get what they want, alongside their strangely creative and effective ways of doing it. 

Parenting. Bruce is currently the parent of a thirteen-year-old boy. He needs to be a parent. And parents definitely do not find their children hiding their tires completely hilarious. No. Definitely not.

His lips twitch again.

“Are you going to do this every time you want something?” he asks. “Because we are going to have problems if that’s the case.”

“Only when you’re being stupid,” Jason says. He’s holding the tire iron he used to remove the Batmobile’s tires in plain sight. His hand is absently waving it around like a baton or a magic wand. The tires on the other hand…

Bruce likes to think he knows every inch of the Batcave. He’s spent a lot of time exploring it, both in his earliest years as Batman, and even more so when Dick was a young child who had a habit of cramming himself in the smallest, darkest, most secluded place he could find whenever he got upset. Jason has a habit of it too, when he gets bored or insecure.

Despite all of Bruce’s knowledge and experience, he has absolutely no idea where Jason hid the tires. Jason still hasn’t hit puberty. He’s small for his age. The tires reach up to his knees, and there are four of them. Add to the fact that Jason can barely stand right now, let alone walk with four tires… 

Some part of him is actually impressed.

The other part is the guy who’s barely thirty and still doesn’t feel nearly old enough to parent  _ a child. An actual, literal child. _

Dick was bad enough. Jason is another monster altogether.

If you had told Bruce ten years ago that this is what he was going to be dealing with… Well, he wouldn’t have laughed, but he definitely would have snorted in disbelief.

“Tell me where they are, Jason,” he says. Jason’s scowl deepens.

“You’re being stupid,” he says. “You don’t get the tires until you stop being stupid.”

“And you are being petty.”

“I’m thirteen,” Jason says stubbornly. “I get to do that while I can still get away with it. The same way you are going to let me patrol. Or else.”

Jason is… He’s not wrong. He is very definitely not wrong. Thirteen-year-olds  _ are  _ petty. Bruce sighs again. He is Batman. He’s the worst fear of the most hardened of Gotham’s criminals. The Gotham Gazette has dubbed him the Dark Knight. He is the terror of the Night.

He is being threatened by a thirteen-year-old and  _ it’s working. _

Bruce thinks that he doesn’t really mind very much. Not really. Not with the way Jason’s really still too small for his glare to be anything more than a pout. It’s not helped by the fact that he barely reaches Bruce’s chest, and he’s standing, chin jutted out with his hands on his hips. He’s got a Narrows Accent, but his voice is also just beginning to break, making it squeak in odd places. It’s. It’s adorable.

Jason is adorable. He is, in fact, very adorable. He always has been, and he probably always will be. Bruce barely manages to tell him so. He doubts Jason would appreciate it.

Instead, he says, “We’ve talked about this. You’re injured. You’re not going on patrol.”

“You talked,” Jason corrects. “And forced me to listen. And yes. I’m definitely going on patrol.”

Bruce’s hand twitches. He’s barely resisting the urge to run it through his hair.

“You have a sprained knee,” he says. “You can barely stand right now. You’re not going out on patrol.”

“I can stand! I’m standing right now!” Jason says, even as his body tilts dangerously to his uninjured side. A heavy pat on the shoulder would probably be enough to knock him over.

“You’re not getting your tires otherwise,” Jason adds. “I hid them somewhere you’ll  _ never  _ find them.”

Bruce’s lips twitch again, and it stays that way. He knows that right now, there is a small smile on his face. He knows it by the way Jason’s glare falters, just a bit. He’s like Dick that way. Always so surprised when Bruce smiles at them, as if they aren’t rays of literal sunshine and happiness.

That thought makes him feel oddly guilty.

“I suppose I’m not going on patrol tonight then,” he says, and Jason’s glare falters more. He ruffles Jason’s hair again, making it stick up in impossible angles. “Wanna watch a movie with me, Jaylad?”

Jason actually does a double take. He drops the tire iron, barely missing his foot. Then, he glares further.

“This is not going to work on me,” he declares.

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “What isn’t? Obviously, neither of us are going on patrol. Might as well watch something. What do you say, chum?  _ The Matrix _ ?” It’s not the first time he’s stayed in because Robin was injured. He doesn’t mind very much. Gotham can live one night without him. His vow is for his entire life. The city can surely spare him a few hours for his son.

Truth be told, Robin’s always been the one more offended at the idea of staying in.

“ _ The Matrix _ ?” Jason entirely fails to keep the hope out of his voice, though his expression doesn’t change.

“With popcorn,” Bruce says. “I’ll even carry you to the TV Room.”

“I don’t need to be carried!” Jason says, but he’s smiling a little, too. 

“Of course not.”

“But I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you want,” Jason says. “Old man.”

Bruce’s face breaks into a fuller smile. He lifts Jason onto his shoulders. Jason is unable to suppress his laugh of delight and Bruce lets himself laugh too.

Life is good. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

 

\--

 

Like all good things in Bruce’s life, it doesn’t last. 

It ends with a bomb and being just a few seconds too late.

It hurts to look at the Batmobile sometimes, with all four tires. He sees a boy everytime he closes his eyes, face still young enough to be caught between a glare and a pout, holding a tire iron and demanding Bruce’s love.

Bruce lost a part of himself with Jason. It feels a lot like the last of his innocence. He doubts he’ll ever get it back.

 

\--

 

It’s Father’s Day.

They never really celebrated Father’s day in the manor, not in the traditional sense. Not since Bruce’s parents. Dick never wanted a father from Bruce when he was a child, and they don’t really talk about it now, though he usually sends Bruce a mug or Batman merchandise, just because he knows Bruce hates them. It’s a kind of game between them.

Tim wrangles Bruce to dinner and they end up talking for hours about things that aren’t patrol or business. They almost feel normal on those times. Cass is… Cass. She never cared for that kind of thing.

Bruce usually finds a gift from Damian in the study. 

(Their family, as a general rule, are not one for overt expressions of affection. Bruce likes to think they love each other nonetheless.)

And Jason… Jason has only started speaking to Bruce again. There are differences they’ll never be able to reconcile, and things Bruce will never be able to make up for, but Jason’s finally come home and he’ll always be grateful for that. He doesn’t expect anything more.

He makes his way to the cave. It’s only light patrol for him tonight. Cass and Steph will take over later. He thinks that maybe Cass cares more about Father’s Day than he initially thought.

He’s barely descended the staircase when he sees something that makes him stop in his tracks. 

There, in the center of the cave is the Batmobile, tireless, and a tire iron lying on the cave floor. On it a note that makes Bruce smile, despite himself. A weight is lifted from his chest. It's a lightness he hasn't felt in a long time.

 

_ Happy Father’s Day you asshole. _

_ -Jason _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments give me life <33
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://discowlng.tumblr.com) if you want to rant about DC or something hehe


End file.
